


Sibus

by ShowMeAHero



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: AO3 1 Million, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Bondlock, Bromance, Crossover, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Mild Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Q is a Holmes, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 15:34:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1190412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the interim, there is a brief meeting of the minds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sibus

“ _Accio_ quill!” the young third-year exclaimed, staring at the quill across the table from him. His wand cut through the air sharply, and he frowned when the quill only twitched on the tabletop. “Oh, come _on_. _Accio_ quill!” The quill twitched again, but still did not cme to him. He groaned in frustration and let his head fall onto the table. The Great Hall was crowded and loud around him, but he tuned it out easily.

He lifted his head again, shoved his hair out of his eyes, and waved his wand in an arch. “ _Accio_ quill!” he shouted, and the quill jerked slightly before settling again.

“Are you still trying to move that bloody quill?” James asked, falling into the seat beside him. A couple of the Slytherins around him glanced at the Gryffindor, but he ignored them. “I told you, you’re going to need to rest a bit more before you can try any spells.”

“I’m just _frustrated_ ,” Sherrinford said emphatically. “I can’t do _anything_. I’m a right bloody useless-”

“Calm down,” his brother said, taking the seat across from him. The same Slytherins who had been eyeing James now eyed Sherlock, in his Ravenclaw blue and bronze, but similarly paid him little mind a moment later, returning to their own conversations. Sherlock was a fifth-year, and James a sixth-year, but they did not seem to care about sitting with a third-year. Sherrinford appreciated that about Hogwarts. “It takes time. You’ll get better.”

“I could do this two weeks ago,” Sherrinford grumbled, and Sherlock waved his hand.

“And you’ll be able to do it in two more,” Sherlock assured him. “Be _patient_.”

“You’re not exactly one to tell someone else to be patient,” John said, appearing at Sherlock’s side and falling into the spot beside him. He nodded to his fellow Gryffindor, and James nodded back in greeting. “And, would you mind telling me before you just get up and walk away? I talked to myself for two minutes.”

“You ought to pay better attention,” Sherlock said simply. John scowled at him before turning to Sherrinford.

“How are you feeling, then?” John asked the third-year. Sherrinford shrugged. “Come on, then. I can’t help if you don’t talk.”

“Still got a bit of a headache,” Sherrinford admitted, and John laughed.

“Why didn’t you just say so?” John asked, pulling his wand out of his Quidditch uniform and pressed the tip against Sherrinford’s temple. “ _Epoulo_.”

Sherrinford blinked, then smiled a bit behind his glasses. His brother came over then, taking the spot on Sherrinford’s other side. The Slytherins either paid their Head Boy no mind, or they nodded to him. One girl smiled at him. Mycroft inclined his head to her as he sat.

“How are you feeling, little brother?” Mycroft asked. Sherrinford dropped his head down onto the table again while Sherlock picked up the quill he had unsuccessfully been attempting to summon. James reached over and stole a piece of chicken of Sherrinford’s barely-touched plate of lunch.

“What is _Epoulo_?” Sherlock asked John. John tucked his wand away.

“It heals natural body ailments,” John explained. “Only the more minor ones, though. Madame Pomfrey taught it to me.”

“Isn’t it almost time for class?” Sherrinford asked, interrupting everybody. James stilled, then resumed eating his piece of chicken.

“I suppose it is, would you look at that,” John agreed, looking at his charmed watch. He stood, then waited. When Sherlock only glanced up at him with a furrowed brow, John sighed and motioned for him to move. “Come on. You’ve got class, as well.”  
“No, I haven’t.” At John’s exasperated look, Sherlock seemed to think for a moment. “What have I got?”

“Care of Magical Creatures,” John answered. “And I’ve got Potions, so we’d best get going.”

“Yes, I suppose we’d best.” Sherlock stood, then, after thinking for a moment, leaned across the table and set the quill down. He looked over his shoulder at John briefly, then turned back to his brother. He pointed his wand at the quill. “ _Avifors_.”

The quill turned into a small flock of tiny bluebirds, chirping happily and flying away in a cluster. James laughed, but Mycroft just rolled his eyes.

“Must you show off?” Mycroft asked of his younger brother. His youngest brother laughed behind his hand, even as a bird perched on his shoulder.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sherlock said primly, straightening up again. “I’m simply practicing a new spell. Studies are important, as you well know, and I-”

“Stop shoveling, Sherlock,” Mycroft interrupted, standing and stepping away from the table. “Sherrinford has a point, though. Get to your classes.”

“Yes, sir,” John said, throwing a mock salute at Mycroft before leaving with Sherlock, who laughed as he strode away. Mycroft clasped Sherrinford’s bird-free shoulder.

“Feel better, brother,” Mycroft said. Sherrinford lifted his hand and took hold of the bird gently, then brought it down to sit on the table in front of him.

“Thank you for your concern,” Sherrinford said, and Mycroft squeezed his shoulder briefly, then left. James leaned back against the table, his legs spreading out in the aisle as he looked down at the bird.

“What’re you going to do with that?” James asked, and Sherrinford lifted his wand, pressed it against the curiously still and silent bluebird’s tiny skill.

“ _Finite Incantatem_ ,” Sherrinford said quietly, and the bird turned back into a quill. Sherrinford smiled, then stood.

“Come on, we don’t want to be late for class,” Sherrinford urged, and James stood, snatching the quill up off the table and tucking it into his pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> I made up the spell "Epoulo". It's a bastardization of the Greek "επουλωθούν", or "epoulo̱thoún", which means "heal".
> 
> You can follow me on Twitter at [@nicoIodeon](https://twitter.com/nicoIodeon) or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


End file.
